Salvage
by Zudit
Summary: Beyond the door, there be monsters. They wanted to play...Ryan and Sharpay have seen some changes. The greatest being in someone close and its the twins that its hurting. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Sharpay had stood with Ryan in the back by themselves, fingers intertwined tightly. Ryan had reflected on their pale fingers, noting the basketweave pattern, and thinking on the fact that this was the most tender moment he'd had with his sister in a long time. He didn't think there'd be another moment of perfect sibling solidarity for a long while even in such depressing circumstances.

The moment came again all too soon, though.

He was curled on his bed, his arms wrapped around his sister, his chin resting on her head. His eyes would flick now and then to their fingers, intertwined.

It reminded him of an old photo of them that sat on their mantle in the living room, holding hands. Sharpay had been smiling up at the camera but his eyes were set firmly on her. Its how it would always be. Sharpay would look out into the great wide world and that audience that was always applaud for her and he would be content to follow behind and take care of her. It had become his duty.

Tonight, he was on duty. He was whispering soothing words into Sharpay's ear. Even as the hideous stomping caused her to jump and cringe. Even as his own back straightened and he tensed, ready for anything, despite the fact that he was far too small to take on most things. "It's okay," he whispered, "Hush now."

They both watched the door, eyeing it suspiciously. That oak door was something to be feared. It was where the map and safety ended for them, and beyond that, there were monsters. The monsters, though, wanted in.


	2. Chapter 2

The oak door yawned open slowly, or so it felt to the Evans twins. It was like watching a wave rise up and foam white before crashing down or the mouth to Aladdin's cave, rising from Arabian sand. Only, there was no treasure beyond that threshold.

Sharpay's free hand wrenched around to grab onto the collar of Ryan's shirt. Her long fingers wrapped up in a fistful of something that for her defined safety, cotton blend and smell of sandalwood. He tightened his grip on her, drawing his legs up around her. He wanted to be a wall, a small fortress for the unmapped monsers entering in. He knew that it was futile, but he tried anyway. It was his duty to Sharpay.

Ryan's eyes locked on the silhouette in the doorway, a dark ominous shadow that seemed to rise from the floor like a phantom, or Death in corporeal form. Perhaps, it was like Death. The twins feared it like they did Death. One day this shadow might bring their deaths, might take a bit of themselves or their bodies. It had sometimes drawn on their porcelain-colored flesh, sometimes grew violets on their skin.

The unmapped monster, the silhouette, the physical manifestation of Death all came stomping into the room as one being. Ryan stood, resting pale hands on Sharpay. He was a fortress for his sister. The monster, though, only scoffed at the precariously-perched stone of his fortress and thrust it apart. Ryan hit the chiffarobe, the mirror cracking with an angry noise and a garden burst into bloom on his back. Sprouting out of pale skin, they always caused him pain. A wave of nausea before he got up once again to face the monster. It snarled and he frantically gathered the stones of his walls but it was quicker and stronger than him and he became reaquainted with the chiffarobe. The garden only grew, roses rising and bleeding away.

Sharpay's long fingers reached out, past the monster for her brother, but the beast wrenched her arm away from him. Leaving bright-colored doodles on her arm.

Ryan saw his sister's hand reach for him, saw it batted away, saw her cradle her arm and slowly crawl under the bed to safety. He nodded but soon cried out as the monster tried to plant bluebells onto his cheek.

Sharpay cried. Ryan cried. The monster remained silent and angry when the twins didn't approve of their gardens.It was an insatiable monster. It only wanted to play with them, it didn't want anyone else.


	3. Chapter 3

She waited out that monster, that harbinger of pain. He slammed the door behind him, the room shuddered. Gardens wilted into bruises, doodles into cuts. Surreality melted into reality. They could see the damage.

"Ryan?" she whispered.

She army-crawled out onto the battle feild, manuevering around toppled chair and bits of chiffarobe. She let her eyes rest on his feet first. He was barefooted and his pale feet bled from stepping on the glass of the broken mirror. Traveling up she caught took his face in her hands. His eyes were closed, long lashes resting on porcelain cheek not stained with red marks and purple bruises.

She watched as he roused himself. Blinking up at her, he smiled, but the light in his eyes was not there. She carefully wrapped her arms around him and lifted him from the ground, navigating him around the shards of glass. He was limp in her arms, his slight figure far to easy to lead. She lay him on the bed and he quietly curled up on her old comforter.

He shivered, shock slowly setting in. She turned on the small television and faced it towards him, turning his head to focus it on the television. Black and white picture filled the screen. _The Mickey Mouse Club. _He looked down at Sharpay pulling bits of glass from his feet before turning back to the television. They used to watch this every Friday with their mother and father. They would beg and plead to stay up so late and then sit mesmerized in their parents' laps as the show flickered across their faces in darkened house. Where had that simple perfection gone? Did it die with their mother?

Sharpay lifted him gently from the bed, to pull the cotton shirt off. He let her, his motions as limp and obiedient as a child's. His back grew bruises. Spine, scapula, all purple as plums and bleeding from the mirror. She tried to dab away the blood.

"I'm so tired, Sharpay," he whispered.

She lay her head down on the bed. "Me, too."

"I want to rest," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

_The play that they are practicing in this peice is "The Pillowman" by Martin McDonagh. The plot invovles quite a bit of toture and dark comedy. It seemed fittingly. Unfortunatly, I don't have a copy of the play, so the joke about the blindfold (that's what it is, which I didn't mention in the story) looking stupid is some of the only lines I could find. Thanks. _

_--Zu_

* * *

Ryan sat center stage in a chair during rehearsals. Under the hot lights, above the worn wood floor. He had taken off his shoes to feel the coolness of it below him, always finding comfort there. He had bandages wrapped around them now and Kelsi was giving him odd looks from offstage. He ignored her though, just seeking his one moments peace.

They were rehearsing one of the school's non-musical plays. A serious play, for once. Ryan loved it. He absorbed himself in his character, he reveled in it. He put on the skin of another man. One who's skin was growing gardens like his was, one who feared and suffered as he did. He found solidarity in this character.

There were only a few parts where a girl might be in the play and Sharpay filled one of the places. She sat offstage with Kelsi, watching him run lines with one of the other students.

The other student leaned in towards Ryan, hissing out his lines to him. Ryan, in character, leaned back in the chair at the presence of the other actor. Sharpay watched him show all the fear she had seen him display last night again on stage. She understood that this was a good channel for him, but watching this was like reliving the torture again.

"Sharpay?" little Kelsi's voice whispered. She lay a hand on her shoulder. Sharpay flinched and Kelsi jumped. They both composed themselves. "Are you and Ryan okay, is someone bullying Ryan?"

"What?" Sharpay laughed, "No. He just fell down the stairs in the dark."

Kelsi's mouth formed into a small 'O' and she went silent, watching Ryan throw all his emotion into the part. Cartharsis.

"Who let this on you?" the other boy was asking, holding his script.

"Wha...?" Ryan's answered, he didn't need the script. He had most of it memorized already.

The boy edged towards him and Ryan flinched again. Shuddering and blinking up in surprise. "Who let this on you?"

Ryan stuttered up at the other actor, "T-the man."

Sharpay thought about 'the man' that was waiting for them back home. She wondered what tonight would be like, or tomorrow night. She wondered how long she might live with the gardens and doodles and monsters.


	5. Chapter 5

It was Gabriella who first asked. She had taken Ryan aside and stood on tiptoe to look his straight in the eye. "Ryan, what happened?"

He feigned innocence, "Happened?" If Ryan Evans was anything, he was a good actor and he knew he could easily throw Gabriella off the trail. Gabriella reached up to touch his cheek, but he pushed her hand away. She looked hurt when he did that, making him regret the action. "Nothing happened, Gabi, I just fell."

"Pretty nasty fall," noted Gabi incredulously.

"Yeah, pretty nasty," he agreed.

They took the long way home but still they found the monster asleep on the couch where they were hoping he wouldn't be. The television was on, _Match Game _flickering on the screen. On the floor next to the couch was a dish still holding leftover potatoe salad and garlic green beans that Sharpay had sauteed in olive oil, now dried and inedible. Nearer to their father was a photo of the family from a few years before. Their mother smiled in the picture and 13-year-old Sharpay and Ryan stood in front of their father and mother, beaming up at the camera.

Sharpay saw the photo first, she crept quietly past the sleeping monster and took up the framed photo in her hands, pulling it back quickly. Reverently, she kissed the picture like one would do a holy relic, and held it out for Ryan to do the same before placing it back on the mantle.

She took his hand then, and began to lead him upstairs.

Only then did the monster wake, smiling viciously. "Back so late?"


	6. Chapter 6

A touch. So startlingly gentle that it alone pulled Ryan back from the darkness and into consciousness. He became aware of his senses. He could feel something sticking to his face, making his blonde hair glue itself to his forehead.

The touch. There it was again, pushing his hair back, stroking his head. He leaned into it, opening his eyes slowly. His vision was blurred, but he could make out the shape of Sharpay leaning over him, brushing at his hair.

The monster had pulled Sharpay upstairs by her hair, Ryan following behind, begging him to stop. He was angry tonight. He struck out with great hand when Sharpay tried to tear away from him, the force of the blow sending her to the floor. Ryan shouted out and the monster turned to him, looking just like a man Ryan once knew. The monster threw him against the wall, his head striking first, and the rest of him slipping away. The monster had kicked and clawed at him where he lay before turning his wrath upon Sharpay.

The monster had spit words from its mouth. They licked like flames and burrowed like creatures in the wood. The words grew in them, pushing up and leaving cracks, like weeds in a sidewalk. The crack in their sould aligned so well with the ones are their skin, that it almost had to be admired.

Ryan remembered all this as he reached up pale hand to Sharpay and found it shaking madly in his blurry vision. "C'mon, lets get you to bed," she whispered, helping him to his feet. He stumbled, his vision tunneling, and sank to his knees.Sharpay was brought to the floor with him, clumsily she pushed his hair back from his head. "Its still bleeding."

Bleeding? He reached up to touch his face and they came back sticky with blood. He startles and this and tries to stand up, desperate to get the blood off. He walks three steps and stumbles over a chair. Sharpay was at his side in a instant.

"Its like seeing through cellophane," he observed.

Sharpay brushed at his hair, avoiding the gash. She looked up at him. "C'mon..."


	7. Chapter 7

They took their mother's car. It still smelled like her, jasmine soap and mint. Ryan fell asleep in the passenger while Sharpay drove. Pulling up in front of the building, Sharpay fought a flight-or-fight need to turn the car around and get back home and pray it was all a dream. 

One look at Ryan told her it was all to real. A glance cast down at herself seconded this. 

"C'mon, Ry," she whispered, leading him through the double doors and into the waiting room. It smelled lightly of cigarettes and strongly of the Frebreeze that tried to hide the odor. 

He didn't even ask where they were. There were a few other people there. None quite as well-dressed or beat-up as them. The receptionist noticed them as they entered, and when Sharpay noticed her, she once again fought the urge to run. 

"Sharpay?" choked the tiny receptionist, coming out from behind tthe desk to kneel down in front of Ryan, her fingers lingering at his bruised face, before reaching up to push his hair back in search of the wound that left his face sticky. "Sharpay, w-what...?" 

"I tripped," Ryan muttered. 

"I thought that's what happened last time," said the receptionist, incredulous. She stood up, placed a hand on hip in almost a comical manner. "You guys need the hospital, this is too much for us." 

"We can't," Sharpay hurriedly said. 

"Why not?" asked the girl. 

"Because," she hastily replied. 

"You said he j-just tripped, s-so what's the problem?" It was a challenge, a foreceful push in the correct direction, a gutsy move for this girl.

"Please..." whispered Ryan. What he was begging for, neither was sure. 

The girl blinked down at him, then over at Sharpay. She gave them each a once over before leaning in, trying to be as menacing as possible. "I-I think I know w-what's going on. I-I have my sus-suspicions anyway." She drew a breath before continuing, straightening her spine in effort to shake off her nervousness. "I'm calling social services." 

Ryan was up in second, "Kelsi, no!" 


	8. Chapter 8

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and the imminent threat of death. Sharpay was sure it had a smell and this was it. 

Kelsi had followed them. Under the lobby's flourescent light she had looked Sharpay up and down, making Sharpay feel small and scrutinized for one the first times in her life. The tiny pianist had taken her long fingers and touched Sharpay's battered face and shoulder so gently. It was the touch of a mother, so caring. It made Sharpay ache, she tore away viciously. 

Ryan, though, was receptive towards her touch. He let her hold his hands as the tall, Asian doctor stitched the gash in his head. Sharpay watched his white knuckles wrapped so close and tight to her and was jealous. 

When he was done sewing the Asian doctor smiled and Ryan carefully pulled his hat over the stitches. "You be more careful next time, son," said the doctor, "No more bicycling at night." 

"Yes, sir," answered Ryan amiably. 

Kelsi glared at the lie, squeezed his hand tight enough he flinched. 

As soon as they exited the door, Kelsi stopped, crossing her arms and drawing herself up to her full height and a little more. Standing on tiptoe, she looked straight at Ryan and then Sharpay. "I'm not keeping you guys secret." 

The Evans twins blinked. She fell back on her heels, dropping a hip.

"I don't care if you beg and plead. I don't care if you try to order me," she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and pulled a slip a paper from her pocket. "I got Child Protective Services' number before I left. You can hate me if you want." 

Ryan made a move first, but stumbled and Sharpay reached out and caught, pulling him towards her, an arm around his chest. "Don't..." 

"I will not see you like this, again. I'm making sure of that." 

Both Evans children were afraid, but neither made a move towards Kelsi. They watched her dial and raise the little Japense-made marvel to her ear. They listened to the conversation. 

"Hello? Yes, I'd like to report a case of abuse..."


	9. Chapter 9

They did not come. 

The twins had snuck in that first night without their father noticing. They stayed in Ryan's room that night, curled into each other like they had done as children. Ryan stayed awake, staring at his hand, flexing it over and over, moving it to the right and then left. 

Sharpay was almost asleep when she heard him whisper, "Sharpay...?" 

She mumbled her response. A useless, inarticulate grunt fueled by a greater need to sleep.

"Sharpay, I can't see it over here," he whispered. Sharpay opened her eyes, and say him holding his hand off to the right. "Sharpay, this scares me." 

"We'll be fine soon," she whispered, taking his hand in her's. She truly beleived it. It would be fine.

It was not fine. 

Child Protective Services didn't come that night or the next. On the third afternoon, there was a knock on the door. Mr. Evans rolled off the couch, gave a monsterous stretch and opened the door. 

Sharpay led Ryan to the stairs where they both sat listening as the men entered, asked questions and then walked up the stairs, leaving their father standing in the living room, looking shocked. Sharpay stood and greeted, the men, helped Ryan to his feet and began to tell them everything. 

The men did not take the twins with them.

They left scattering apologies. 


	10. Chapter 10

The lines under the water were beautiful. Light reflected off the water onto the perfect porcelain. They used to go swimming, all four of them, every weekend. They would have diving competitions and contests to see who could hold their breath the longest. Ryan pretended he was still there, just one more second, just one more, playing a game. 

The grip on his neck tightened and he threw his head back for air. Precious, precious air. The stitched head wound sent stabbing pains into his head. 

Sharpay was lying, wet, on the bathroom rug, still gathering air into her lungs. Ryan fell back next to her. The monster, the beast the twins so feared, the man who spent his afternoons staring at the television stood, looming for a moment, then wandered off. 

The twins lay there, gasping for breath. Ryan let his sister take his hand. Again. It seemed they never let go these days. 

In the hallway someone shouted an obscenity at them, but neither cared. Kelsi passed them up, noting their wet hair and cleverly-placed scarves and quickly adding it up. "What happened?" she hissed, "I thought--" 

"You're plan didn't work, Neilson. Thanks a lot," hissed Sharpay and stormed off. 

"She's just--" began Ryan, hopelessly, but Kelsi placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"I understand." 

He nodded and turned to walk away. He tripped over a chair at his right, twisting as he fell. He landed on his back and lay there a moment, his head screaming. Kelsi was at his side and Sharpay rushed up behind him. From seemingly out of no where came Chad and Taylor, Zeke trailing behind. 

"Ryan?" Chad began, "Dude, you okay?" 

He wasn't okay. 

He was tired. 


	11. Chapter 11

His ankle swelled.

He bumped into more things as the day went on, finally giving up and just letting Kelsi or Sharpay lead him around.

It was Chad and Troy who took Sharpay aside during free period, while Ryan continued to run his lines with the other students. Kelsi was sitting off stage right at her piano, watching him closely.

"Chad told me what happened this morning," Troy began.

"He just tripped," Sharpay retorted defensively.

"He told me how you were all wet this morning," he continued.

"We were running late, we didn't have time to dry our hair."

Chad stepped in then. "I told him how weird you've been acting. About those stitches on Ryan's head, about that bruise on your temple-" Sharpay's hand flew up defensively to her head "-about all the bruises I see on Ryan in the locker room. He tries to hide it, y'know, but I see. Someone's messed him up."

Troy put his hand gently on Chad's shoulder and took a step towards Sharpay. She took a step back, acting automatically. This caused Troy to stop, unsure of himself. "Sharpay? What's going on with you guys?"

Sharpay was silent, for once the words were caught in her throat like a stone. A crash came from the stage and all turned to see Ryan on the ground, clutching his swollen ankle, having tripped over another student actor's leg.

Kelsi was already at his side and Sharpay was turning to go, but Troy caught her bruised arm, causing her to wince. "Tell us what's going on, Sharpay."


	12. Chapter 12

Kelsi looked up from Ryan's side. She watched Chad and Troy standing in the wings with Sharpay. The girl looked so cornered, so fragile with her hand resting on her temple.

"Ryan..." Kelsi whispered to him. She stroked his hair and pointed straight from the side of his head, giving him an easy line of sight. He let his eyes wander up her arm and towards what she was indicating.

It was Sharpay.

She looked so very small and frightened and every instinct he had told him to stand up, to come to her rescue and he couldn't because his ankle, his head, his vision all screamed at him, spoke of his decreasing ability to help his sister.

Kelsi looked down at him, leaned close, whispering in his ear, "They know..."

So, the words were spoken in the wings of the theater during lunch. Trays were balanced on crossed legs, and Troy was able to find an ice pack to place on Ryan's ankle. All listened in utter silence as Sharpay and Ryan began to describe the recent events of their house. They spoke slowly at first, and then quicker as the words spilled out of their lips and tears slipped from their eyes in a desperate attempt to escape.

No one spoke when they were done. No one moved at first. The first person to stand was Chad. "I'll kill him," he whispered. No one responded, they knew he wouldn't.

It was Gabriella who spoke second, "Come stay with me? We have room."

Kelsi whispered, "I-if they did, they wouldn't have permission. It'd be considered running away. They'd just have to go back."

Troy stood up next to Chad, frustrated. He drew out his cell phone. "Screw CPS, you guys, I'm calling the cops."


	13. Chapter 13

They came that night, tall men and women made of flashing lights and wailing sirens.

He was looming over the twins, throwing fists into Ryan, while she hid beside the broken chiffarobe. He had stopped moving minutes before and Sharpay was left praying that he was not dead.

It was like a dream as the men came, pulling their father away from Ryan and leading him away. Men swarmed around Ryan, and Sharpay sobbed hysterically, staring at his hat lying abadoned on the rug.

A woman with a a pixie cut and a kind smile knelt in front of Sharpay, her voice soft and her touch gentle and slow. "Hey, sweetheart, can you tell me your name?"

She eyed her suspiciously, answering, "Sharpay." She barely realized what she was doing as she fell into the woman's arms and sobbed.

The woman wrapped a jacket around her, while the men carried a still Ryan on a stretcher. Sharpay leaned down, taking up his hat. "Wait, please, he'll want this!"

She spent the night with Ryan and the next morning was brought by the kind woman officer, Sgt. Pearl, to a small suburban house with a white picket fence and dry lawn with a small garden.

A woman named Beverely stood inside the door with a toddler on her hip. Sharpay drew back nervously, reaching out for Ryan's hand but could only keep on reaching. She turned to Sgt. Pearl,pleading, "Please, let me go back. I want Ryan. Please."

Sgt. Pearl smiled kindly at her and took her hand, leading her inside. Beverely introduced herself, the toddler, Mickey, and a preteen girl who wandered in from the kitchen, who introduced herself as Winona.

Beverly showed Sharpay the room she'd be sharing with Winona. The room was plain and full of pictures of teeny bopper stars, something she would have to get used to. She hardly cared about any of that, though.

"When's Ryan coming?" Sharpay asked.

Sgt. Pearl assured her that he would join her as soon as he was released from the hospital. "With any luck, it'll be later today." She squeezed Sharpay's hand and turned to go, "Good luck, sweetheart."


	14. Chapter 14

Ryan was released that afternoon.

He showed up on Beverley's door with a social worker. Beverley ushered him in and as she did, Sharpay threw her chair back from the dinner table and ran into his arms, with Mickey and Winona watching with bemused interest.

Ryan groaned as she hugged him, putting pressure on every wound and bruise. Beverley carefully pulled her away, "Let's be gentle for a while."

Sharpay lay curled up on the bottom bunk of the bunkbed in her and Winona's room. Outside wind rustled branches against the window. In her mind, all she could hear were Ryan's whimpers and that horrid monster's footsteps.

She waited a while, before crawling out of bed and down the hall to where Ryan and Mickey slept. She passed Mickey's toddler bed on tiptoe before slowly sinking herself down onto Ryan's bed. He was awake, and without word he scooted over to make room for her.

"You can hear him?" he whispered, low, with his eyes on Mickey.

"Yes."

There was silence for a while, and Sharpay was almost asleep when he whispered drowsily, "I miss Mom. Do you?"

"Sometimes, but only sometimes," she replied and let her fingers intertwine with his like they had done at the funeral, like the time that he barely remembered, where he thought it would never happen again. Ryan reflected on their pale fingers, noting the basketweave pattern, and thinking on the fact that this was the most tender moment he'd had with his sister in a long time. He thought of all that had happened, and what they had still managed to salvage.

He was tired, so he closed his eyes and slept.


End file.
